


Patience

by Bearslayer



Series: Patience [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/F, Jealousy, Little dub-con, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8585956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearslayer/pseuds/Bearslayer
Summary: Sometimes, Barbara has to remind herself to be patient.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt received at mindlessgothamite.tumblr.com; a line from the song 'The Worst' by Jhene Aiko. "And my love is patient"
> 
> Feel free to visit my tumblr and toss me a prompt!

Love is patient, love is kind.

Love is patient, love is kind.

Barbara fidgeted in her seat as she listened to Tabitha bemoaning the fact that Butch was... doing whatever Butch did. She didn't give a shit, in truth, but Tabs always needed validation. She was flighty like that. Flighty and unfaithful. Barbara cared so much that she always patiently listened to the other woman prattle on about that rotund gorilla like he was the best thing in her life. Her nails dug into the arm of the chair.

“... We have to hide him away, if Penguin...” Tabitha's voice invaded her train of thought briefly, but faded out again.

“Uh huh.” Barbara nodded. 

Active listening. She had learned about that in her many therapy sessions during her stints in Arkham. Nod and acknowledge. Get the bullet points. She had it down to a science how the shrinks managed to thumb through all the crap they heard from patients. Key words and non-verbal body language. She leaned forward in her seat and kept her eyes on the other woman, though if Tabitha cared enough to look close she would see that Barbara's eyes were completely unfocused.

But Babs knew she didn't really care, so it was easy enough to get away with. Sharp nails dug into the fabric of the chair, carefully burrowing through to the cushion beneath the outer layer. Perhaps she was imagining, just a little, that it was Butch's throat yielding to her nails. It was difficult to tell with thoughts as scattered as hers were at that moment. 

Tabitha filled many of Barbara's needs; she was a good business partner, cruel when the situation called for it, and wild in the sheets. They fed off of one another, egging on one another's darkest impulses... but it wasn't enough for Tabs. Nothing ever was. She couldn't be content just having Barbara, she needed Butch too. 

“... I just need to know he's okay, you know? I care about the big idiot.” Tabitha's mindless blathering had ceased temporarily, waiting for some encouraging response from her lover.

“I know you do. I don't know why.” Barbara focused on the other woman, bringing her glass of wine to her lips and consuming half in one swig. She hadn't meant for her apathy to present itself out loud, but the effects were instantaneous. Tabitha's body tensed visibly as she quickly thought up a response.

“I don't know. Same reason you're still fucking obsessed with Gordon even though he's a goody goody idiot.” Tabitha shot back. She was always so defensive.

“I'm not obsessed with Jim. I enjoy seeing him squirm because he screwed me over. I'll admit I did... take our breakup a little harder than I should have.” Barbara stared at Tabitha, irritated. Why did she always do that? Why did she always make it a fight?

“A little? You kidnapped him and Thompkins so you could marry him in front of her.” Tabitha always knew right where to strike to reopen an old wound. She was as sharp with her words as she was her whip.

Barbara finished off the wine (because wasting good wine was the most cardinal of sins), and smashed the glass on the hardwood floor, standing up to leave the room. She didn't need to sit there and be attacked. Why bother? It was the same fight all the time. When they weren't all over each other, or at the club, they were fighting. Tabitha scoffed at her as she moved to leave.

“Stop being such a child. Is this because I'm talking about Butch?” She shot as Barbara got to the door.

Barbara paused, and turned to look at her. She smiled as sweetly as she could, leaning against the frame as she regarded the other woman.

“Of course not. Why would I mind that you're in love with that miserable lummox while you spend your nights in my bed?” She snapped, words laced with venom.

“Oh, what, you think we're in some sort of happily ever after scenario?” Tabitha rose from her seat, staring across the room at Barbara, who didn't flinch.

“Please. I'm not stupid. I know the only person you love more then yourself is that one armed idiot – and the only reason I fuck you is because you remind me of her!” She hissed in return.

Barbara's eyes widened as soon as the words left her lips. Somewhere in the dark corners of her mind, a tiny flame still existed for her. Renee Montoya, who was a goody goody like Jim. Renee, who had once called their relationship toxic – something she knew now was entirely true. Renee, who had dragged her through hell and then mended her wounds, only to break her heart again before leaving Gotham.

Renee, whom she still dreamt of when her mood was at its worst.

“... Who? Who do I remind you of?” Tabitha descended on her like a bird of prey, backing Barbara into the wall, hands on either side of her head.

“Like it matters to you. Get away from me, I'm not in the mood.” Barbara shoved her bodily away.

But Tabitha was strong, and nothing got her going more then a little physical force. Within the blink of an eye her wrists were pinned to the wall, the taller woman staring down at her, jealousy wild in her eyes. Barbara couldn't help but fidget. Tabitha was a brute, and Barbara hated how much she enjoyed that. She embodied all the danger, all the ferocity she never had with Jim, as well as all the truthfulness that Renee had never shown during their relationship.

“You aren't going anywhere until you tell me who you're talking about.” Tabitha's face moved close, staring directly into her eyes.

“Oh? Is this jealousy I see, Tabs? Don't like the thought of me thinking of another woman when I'm between your thighs?” Barbara smirked, egging her on just to see where this would go. 

Her legs were shoved apart by Tabitha's knee forcibly pressing in, pressing her more fully against the wall. The blonde gasped, blood rushing to her center as soon as she felt her back against the wall. She jerked her hands, but Tabitha's grip was firm. 

“Tell me. Who. You're talking about.” Tabitha said softly, a wicked edge to her voice. 

Any other person might become fearful at such a tone, knowing the type of woman Tabs was; but not Barbara. To Babs, that tone was liquid heat that washed over her entire body, a tone that made every follicle in her body contract. She drew in another broken gasp as the knee between her legs began to rock, eyes slipping shut. It was becoming more and more difficult to respond as her arousal mounted, thoughts disintegrating faster then her ability to voice them would work. Each time she opened her mouth all that escaped was a soft noise, a moan or a gasp.

“Tell me, Babs.” Tabitha persisted, one hand releasing her wrist to trail down her body, achingly slow.

“Mmm... Mm-mm.” Barbara opened her eyes, giving an airy giggle as she refused again, shaking her head.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tabitha leaned in, catching her earlobe between her teeth after she spoke.

Barbara didn't have to give a verbal answer – she knew it was easy enough to tell the second the other woman's hand hit its mark, sliding into her panties beneath her dress. Her eyes slipped shut again as the sound of Tabitha's chuckle hit her ears, now freed arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“Yeah you are. You're so easy to get going. I barely have to touch you and you're fucking soaked already. Still thinking of whoever that other bitch is?” As she spoke, Tabitha slid two fingers between her folds, finding her clit with ease.

“N-no. Can't say that I am.” Barbara spread her legs a little further, eager for the touch.

Tabitha leaned her head down to bite lightly at her neck and collarbone as she massaged the nerve filled nub between her fingers, beginning to work her over in a way that only she knew how. Barbara's body rocked with her hand and her knee, suddenly desperate for the stimulation. Manicured nails gripped Tabitha's shoulder hard, though she knew she wouldn't feel it through the thick leather of her coat.

“You sure? You sure you're thinking of me, and how good I make you feel? How easy it is for me to make you come?” Tabitha's voice was teasing.

“I'm thinking of you, just you... Please baby, more!” Barbara gasped, trying to encourage the other woman to really let loose – the way she liked it.

Fingers slid further and plunged deep inside, curling to find their target like an assassin's blade to the throat of an unwitting victim, causing her to cry out and spread further, cheeks flushed red...

And then, nothing.

Tabitha's hand was withdrawn right when Barbara was at her precipice, knee drawn back. The dark haired woman stepped back, leaving her slumped against the wall, wide eyed.

“Good. Don't ever say some shit like that again. You're mine, and if I ever hear you're thinking about someone else again I'll find them and gut them.” Tabitha stared at her. There was something dark in her look, a promise that what she said was true.

“You can't just leave me like this!” Barbara was aghast, heart still racing.

“Yes I can. Go take care of yourself, I'm gonna go to the club for a while. Dream of me while you do it, beautiful.” Tabitha smirked at her as she turned to exit.

And though she was reluctant to admit it, Barbara would. 

Someday she would have Tabitha to herself, but until then she reminded herself, repeating it like a mantra in her head...

Love is patient, but rarely kind.


End file.
